Uber

Tuesday, April 12, The Hermitage

April 18, 2016 by Virginia Parker 1 Comment

I have a strategy for huge museums.

1. Get there early.

2. Start at the back of the top floor and work my forward and down.

3. Take the museum’s handout map and a colored marker so I can layer my own map of where I’ve been, what I saw, and notes on what to see again.

4 Tuck a half bottle of water and some kind of small but sustaining snack in my bag.

5. Bring my best manners.

Over breakfast I Googled up coffee shops near the Hermitage I could Uber to within in walking distance to the museum, and places to eat lunch. Breakfast was proofing the blog post, wolfing my porridge*, and making myself a croissant bacon and jam sandwich (don’t judge – my other options from the hotel buffet were smoked salmon and sliced tongue) which I thanked God for around 2pm when I realized I hadn’t eaten and could not bring myself to leave.

In honor of the occasion, I picked Uber Black, and for six bucks my ride was a silky smooth Mercedes. Hell to the yeah. High class.

I wore my Prague pink silk scarf. I saw this in a window as we smoothly navigate the streets

Gratitude - works for me. — Gratitude – works for me.

I was buzzing with adrenaline. We pulled up to palace square and I hopped out to the sounds of a marching band. A welcome for me? How thoughtful! A man in a Peter the Great costume was swashbuckling around.

great casting. — Great casting – he was easily 6’4″, without the hat.

I couldn’t believe I was in the frame of the picture I’d stared at so longingly for the past year. I asked a kind tourist to take my photo. It’s worth noting that If you want to connect with anyone you see of any nationality, age, or gender, approach them and ask, “can you take my photo, please?” The frowns, protestations they don’t speak English, defensive go away gestures instantly change when you proffer your iPhone with the photo screen open and the universal white button. Faces transform in mid-scowl, smiles and nods ensue. Not one exception so far. It is turning out to be the universal key that unlocks every door. And it beats selfies hands down.

{"focusMode":0,"deviceTilt":0.004832549891199633,"whiteBalanceProgram":0,"macroEnabled":false,"qualityMode":3} — I’m here. I’m really here.

Heart thumping, I scampered to the designated entrance. There was a small wooden door just inside, before the turnstile with a Friends of the Hermitage sign. I knocked and met Oksana, the same women who responded to my inquiry email all those months ago. It was a tiny office, crammed with papers and files and computers. Fifteen minutes later I had my official card and my own entrance (same door as security and employees). Slap the card on the turnstile, green lights and I’m in. That’s it.

Osaka leads me to the staircase most people see first. It’s so iconic even the swarms of posing tourists can’t obliterate the grandeur.

I remember to look up.

On my way to the third floor, I walked through a special exhibition; Two Enlightened Monarchs. I am captivated because here are the famous portraits of Peter the Great and Catherine the Great and their coterie that I’ve seen online and in the pages of books. The nuances that are flattened out in photographs are visible here. The faces that look out at me from the gilded frames are the same ones that engineered the existence of the very ground I stand on at the cost of so many lives. There is something about the fragile humanity, the aging of their faces, versus the scale of their accomplishments. They are ghosts made visible. They will stay phantoms, because special exhibits prohibit photos. This is a universal museum rule that I (almost always) respect.

I hie myself to the top floor. A pack of small school boys in blue uniform jackets with silver buttons clatter past me on the stairs. It feels like Hogwarts is on a field trip. NOTE: This will happen again and again and I have come to love it. First, these children are the future. They are our only hope, Obi wan. No joke. Second, every uniform is different – I particularly liked one that featured magenta plaid. Third, they are short enough to easily see over.

In no time I am absorbed in the realms of old and middle eastern art, like this jolly pair of Iranian girls, sisters perhaps, who apparently forgot their shirts.

If you've got it, flaunt it. — If you’ve got it, flaunt it.

By 2pm I was running on fumes, so I sat on a hard bench in the bafflingly dismal café area. (surprisingly cheap décor, Kwik Trip calibre food (sandwiches in plastic boxes, M&Ms, stale pastry) and wolfed down my smuggled snack. I regained sufficient strength and clarity of mind to go look for some real fuel. A few short blocks away I found Double B coffee & tea, aka Dablbi (Millionnaya St., 18) ) and fantastic things happened.

Octane quality, maybe even better. A temple to caffeine for the true believer.

{"focusMode":0,"deviceTilt":0.05308287590742111,"whiteBalanceProgram":0,"macroEnabled":false,"qualityMode":3} — Rocket fuel for the weary traveler

Returned to the Hermitage and got back on the horse. The coat check ladies waved and smiled at me. I guess they know a lifer when they see one. This time I visited the Egyptian exhibit, a single largish room, doing all the stops on the audio tour from the Hermitage app I downloaded to my iPhone. Fascinating!

Behold the scribe. Mostly he tallied grain and livestock, but I still feel that connection over the centuries.

I spent a good hour plus, so there goes my carefully crafted schedule. On my quest for a bathroom to get rid of the coffee, I walked through the Greek and Roman statuary rooms. Coming attractions!

Reminds me of Robert. Just switch out that staff for a C-stand.

I can’t wait to come back tomorrow and do a bit of sketching. Lots of drawing going on, with really young kids who were focused and serious.

The map has been a bit confusing, but the numbers are over most of the door so I am carefully marking my path. It makes all the difference to getting me oriented.

I left at 5:30, unsure of what to do next. Thanks to my pre-made Googlemap I had a restaurant to aim for, Fruktovaya Lavka (Bolshaya Konyushennaya, ul 15.) No regrets – this little gourmet market and café had a small but choice menu. I ordered the buckwheat pasta, mostly because it came with seafood, and honestly, I didn’t know buckwheat could be this delicious. I can come back and eat here another dozen times.

Back to my hotel via Uber Black. Traffic was a bitch, but it was still six bucks.

Tomorrow, repeat.

* Porridge. My hotel offers it, but it was a bland paste, without any seasoning. On the first day, I asked them to add cinnamon. On the second day, I asked them to add chopped apple. On the third I was bold enough to ask for raisins. I have this every morning and they are getting pretty good at it.

Hermitage, Thursday April 14

April 20, 2016 by Virginia Parker Leave a Comment

Yesterday, short sleeve weather. Today rain. Tomorrow snow. Wow, just like home. Wore my rain boots and carried my chucks in a bag, which worked a treat. My good deed for the day was telling a woman, who hesitated at the cloak room over whether to check her fleece-lined hoodie or not, to leave it or she’d cook like a Sunday roast. Hear me now, thank me later. She left it.

Going for the early Italian rooms today. En route I paused to examine this mosaic table embellished with tiny, precise fragments of semi-precious stone.

Dogs are catching my eye - I miss my pup. — Intricate and subtle..

These chips of stone are so very small that even standing there in good light, I had to look at the close-up photo on my iPhone and use zoom to see the fine lines of the joinery.

Crowds of tourists, specifically the huge tour groups, pushed past me like 18 wheelers blowing past a Smart Car. Here’s a tip; If you want to see the marvelous Peacock clock in peace, go after 6pm on a Wednesday or Friday night. It’s an awesome experience. Of course, if you like seething crowds and a noise level like a thousand monkeys chattering on crack, be my guest.

Left the raucous peacock room and entered this calm and lovely space.

Symmetry. I'm a fan. — Symmetry. I’m a fan.

Wandered past incomparable religious works by Italian masters, which still didn’t prepare me for the glory that is the Loggia.

A copy of Raphael's testament to the glory of creation. — A copy of Raphael’s Loggia at the Vatican, his testament to the glory of creation.

It brought tears to my eyes. I can’t find the words to do the moment justice. It’s so exceptionally beautiful and complex, yet by some miracle, as crammed with visual riches as it is, it doesn’t feel fussy. How is that even possible? There are Genesis stories overhead and on every side the walls are ornamented with flora and fauna, the bounty of this world rendered with a loving eye for each detail. Even his rat is charming.

Critters. I hate rats. If you fought to get them out of your attic, you’d hate them too.

I was that tourist, the one humbly asking strangers to photograph me. But you know, even a scowling Russian man, who irritably growled, “No English,” when I approached him, changed as soon as he saw the iPhone in my hand. He smiled and nodded. Apparently the iPhone is a universal language and an instant bridge between cultures. I’m awed by its power.

Later, still reeling from the glory of Raphael’s vision, I stumbled down to the café to eat my contraband croissant. On the way, I walked though a dark red room lined with enormous paintings of hunting dogs bringing down bears and leopards, and tables laden with vegetables and game. I hastened back after my break and discovered there were, huzzah, two benches to choose from. I sketched a table draped with a peacock and rabbit, the dog underneath growling at a hissing cat.

I felt fully in my skin. This is why I came. I don’t know how this will shape my future art but I know it fed my soul.

I knew this so well and was still blown away by the scale. — I knew this image so well through photographs and was still blown away.

When I finally put down my pencil some hours and several sketches later, I looked out a window to see snow falling. Big, fat cinematic flakes. I grinned like a madwoman and babbled my new Russian word Sneg! to every guard I passed on my way out.

Walked through the heavy, wet snow, well protected by my umbrella and plenty warm enough for the ten minute hike to Fruktovaya Lavka. Devoured an excellent risotto, with chicken liver and grilled vegetables, and my favorite raspberry tart. Took my first surge-rated Uber. The exchange is so favorable that even doubled, Uber pop was around six bucks.

My iPhone rang at 1am, unknown caller. I changed my voice mail message to ‘I’m in Russia. Text is good and email is better, but if you want me to call you back, leave a message.’